


Joly And The Cobblestone Stairs

by leahsmindpalace



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, Bahorel is a Good Friend, Canes, Canon Disabled Character, Crying, Disappointment, Doctor Joly, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Modern Era, Multi, Oblivious Enjolras, Other, Paris (City), Physical Disability, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 13:48:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20976923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leahsmindpalace/pseuds/leahsmindpalace
Summary: Ever since Joly became a full time cane-user when he was twelve years of age, life had been increasingly difficult, whether it was being excluded completely, or being invited to somewhere where he simply couldn't go. It wasn't something he'd really thought about anymore or became upset about.Until today.





	Joly And The Cobblestone Stairs

Ever since Joly became a full time cane-user when he was twelve years of age, life had been increasingly difficult, whether it was being excluded completely, or being invited to somewhere where he simply couldn't go. It wasn't something he'd really thought about anymore or became upset about. 

Until today.

Today, it all came to a head. His right hip was aching and his knees and ankles were throbbing as he climbed the stairs of the old Parisian building. The top floor is where he and all of Les Amis were in the process of ascending to. Enjolras said that he'd been told it was where another group of revolutionaries from years ago used to meet. Nobody really knew what he was talking about, but they went ahead as they usually did when Enjolras became obsessed with something, on a field trip of sorts. 

"I…I think I need to take a break." Joly says and clears his throat. He sits on one of the steps, leaning his beloved and custom-made cane against the wall. But all of a sudden, everyone sort of awkwardly stops and waits for him. He smiles despite the slight embarrassment and searing pain in his legs. "Oh, no, ehm, please. Go on without me. I may take a few minutes."

"No, Joly, it's okay. We're all in this together." Enjolras nods, oozing with care and positivity and sheer unawareness. He hears several quietly make 'High School Musical' jokes and sighs. 

He looks at Bossuet and Musichetta, not wanting either of them to say anything to Enjolras. Joly knew the leader meant well, so he couldn't be annoyed at him. He was more annoyed at everyone standing around and making him feel like there was an able-bodied wall of flesh about to cave on his currently seemingly weak frame and crush him like a bug. 

"Please, go ahead." Joly insists, smiling again. Surely they knew that if he was sitting on these undoubtedly germ-infested stairs then he must be in real pain. Truthfully, he didn't want to go anywhere else. He shouldn't have come, he knew that, but he wanted to. And if he wanted to, why couldn't he?  
His reminder radiated in response to that question, but with muscles clenched, he stood up after a few moments. The annoyance of the near dozen of them hovering over him and watching like a hawk getting to be too much pressure for him to even relax.

He began to walk on and up with the rest of the group, trailing behind but not enough to be noticeable. They were all walking along and talking, except for Joly and Bossuet. "I want to make it to the top." 

Bossuet raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. "Don't push yourself, love." He began, but Joly protested, shaking his head feverishly.

"No. I came out to climb to the top of these stupid stairs, Suet. I need to." Joly insisted, his voice shaking slightly. The pain was starting to get worse and he knew his body was screaming for him to stop, to sit down and treat this. He ignores it. Once he got to the top he would be able to recooperate enough to go down the stairs and home and everything would be absolutely fine. He just had to get to the top. "Just have to get to the top yet." He persisted.

Except he never did get there. A few minutes after he started physically shaking from the pain, his legs gave up and collapsed from underneath him. His cane went flying and everyone gasped and yelled as he tumbled down a few steps, stopping at a curve in the steps. "Damn it!" He exclaimed.

Musichetta rushed down the stairs to his side, "Baby, are you okay?!"

"I'm fine." He said bitterly, trying to remain calm despite the fact that his face felt hot with embarrassment and his legs, particularly his right one, was tormenting him with stabbing pain. 

"Do you need help?" Enjolras started, trying to solve everything like he does. "We could carry you, if you'd like."

"Yeah, totally." Bahorel nodded, trying to stay upbeat and like it wasn't a problem at all. Like Joly's being there wasn't an inconvenience to the whole group. 

"I don't want to be carried." Joly snapped, looking up at everyone. "I don't want any help. I wanted you all to go on! To the top! Why can't you listen?! Why can't anyone listen to me?!" 

"Sweetheart…" Musichetta started gently, "They mean well." 

"I want to go home." Joly spat, hot tears pooling in his eyes. The pain was unbearable, and he wondered if he actually would have to be carried home. "I'm going home." 

Grantaire silently goes down a few more stairs and gets Joly's cane for him, handing it to them. 

"Thank you." The hurting man replied, taking it from him. 

"I apologize, Joly," Enjolras says, "I truly didn't mean for it to sound-" 

"Infantilizing? Patronizing?" Joly began, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks and he looks at the ground, shooting pain from his hips to his toes making the emotional side of things even worse. "I know. You're just ignorant. Most people are, I…I'm used to it. Please, go ahead." He gestures up the steps. "I'll be fine." 

Bossuet begins to tear up. He'd seen Joly down, but never like this. He silently gestures for the rest of Les Amis to continue and he and Musichetta stayed behind with their boyfriend, sitting down on the stairs. "Hey." He said softly. 

"I don't want to talk." Joly replied quickly, grimacing at the searing feeling in his body. He leans against the wall, pure exhaustion overtaking him.

"You're shaking." Musichetta frowned, placing her hand on his back. "Oh, Doc, we gotta get you home."

"Give me a few minutes." He shook his head, trying to surpress a sob. "Just a few minutes." 

Musichetta nodded and continued rubbing his back as Bossuet held his hand. They stayed like that for a very long time until Joly tried to stand. His legs shook underneath him like a newborn calf and he sat back down quickly, burying his face in his hands, starting to tear up all over again. "I shouldn't have come! I shouldn't have done this! I wouldn't have been able to do this on my best day, let alone today! I...I think I may have to be carried. At least down the stairs." He admited tearfully, and Bossuet nodded, soon picking him up with ease. 

"Almost to the bottom," Musichetta encouraged, trying to sound positive as she walked down the stairs, holding Joly's cane for him. "And then we'll see how you do from there? If you're still in too much pain and too tired, I'll call a ride." 

Joly sniffled, leaning against Bossuet. He didn't want to show his face. "Just call it now." He mumbled, trying to keep from groaning in pain. He felt so stupid.

On the ride home, Joly didn't say much. Once they reached their destination, Bossuet was surprised to hear Joly ask him to carry him inside. "Thank you." The young doctor said after being set on the trio's couch.  
Musichetta, without a word, was quick to bring him heat and ice to apply to the major pain points in his leg. "Do you need to take anything for the pain, love?" She asked him and Joly nodded. She jumped up and promptly brought him one of his pills and a glass of water before settling down beside him. Bossuet sets his boyfriend's cane by the couch if by chance he felt up to getting up later. 

"I'm sorry." Joly said after a few minutes of sitting with the two of them on either side. "I shouldn't have gone today and pushed myself." 

"I'll carry you anytime." Bossuet assured him, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "You're my best friend."

Musichetta does the same, smiling. "Don't apologize. At least now we can all just cuddle and have a night in. So there's that." 

Joly smiled, tears welling up. A mixture of pain, tiredness, and pure love swept through him and overwhelmed his senses. "Th-thanks, you two." He sniffled. The pain dulled just enough that the exhaustion took over. His head was leaned against his boyfriend, and his girlfriend was hugging his arm. "I'm so lucky to have you both." He smiled. "You make the heard days so much more bearable. I love you, Musichetta. Love you, Bossuet." 

"Love you, too." They replied in unison. Joly smiled.

They all cuddled, and after a while, fell asleep. Despite the hard day, he knew he could get through anything with his loves by his side.


End file.
